Waomenbō let out a shrill, rasping scream as his withered hands shot toward the pit below.
"I was planning to take it slow…"
"But now—as long as I absorb all this stored food down there, my power will skyrocket instantly!"
"Then I'll turn both of you into the most agonizing clay dolls imaginable—torturing you day after day!!"
The moment his words fell—
A suction far stronger than before erupted from his palms.
Every clay figure at the bottom of the pit screamed in agony as thick, blood-red currents poured out of their bodies. Like rivers returning to the sea, the blood energy surged madly into Waomenbō.
His body swelled rapidly, demonic aura climbing at an alarming rate.
Ryosuke and Uzui Tengen's expressions changed drastically.
"Damn it—stop him!"
Ryosuke shouted.
If this demon completed the absorption, his strength would soar to a terrifying level.
At that point, not only would the two of them be in mortal danger—the villagers trapped below would be completely consumed, beyond all hope of rescue.
Uzui Tengen wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth—blood spilled from that overloaded strike—and tightened his grip on his twin blades.
"Looks like… I'll have to bring out something even more flamboyant."
They exchanged a glance.
Then charged at the same time.
Thunder Breathing — First Form: Thunderclap and Flash · Sixfold!
With no restraint whatsoever, Ryosuke became a bolt of lightning, striking at a speed invisible to the naked eye!
Waomenbō's arms were severed in an instant—
His Blood Demon Art was forcibly interrupted!
"Damn you, Demon Slayers!!"
Waomenbō howled—
And Uzui Tengen's blades followed immediately!
The hastily formed clay shield was smashed apart, sending Waomenbō stumbling backward.
Before he could even gasp—
Ryosuke's second slash arrived!
Waomenbō blocked desperately, only to be blasted several meters away by overwhelming force.
With the Blood Demon Art cut off, Waomenbō's bloated body deflated like a punctured balloon. The power he had just absorbed began to leak away violently.
In that instant—
Ryosuke's third strike dove down, slicing cleanly across his neck.
Clean. Decisive. Unimpeded.
Waomenbō's head flew high into the air, his face frozen in utter terror and disbelief.
Beheaded…
By humans—by these two Demon Slayers…
[Final-stage demon "Waomenbō" slain. Lifespan gained: 5 years. Current remaining lifespan: 5 years, 294 days.]
The system notification echoed in Ryosuke's mind.
The headless body staggered forward before collapsing heavily to the ground, then began to dissolve—head and body alike—into drifting ash.
White light filled Waomenbō's vision as memories from his past flashed through him.
"Clay… how beautiful… smooth… eternal…"
"Why… why did they all laugh at me? Why did they smash my life's work? I only wanted to create the most perfect pieces…"
"Those eyes… red… like a god… That lord gave me power… yes! Eternity! Only by sealing life inside the most beautiful clay can eternity be achieved!"
"That's right! Hahahahaha…!"
"Even if I were reborn a hundred times! A thousand times! I'd still seize this power and turn every last one of you into my collection! Hehehe…"
The ashes scattered, and the warped, obsessive whispers faded with the wind.
Uzui Tengen stared at the remains, his voice cold with contempt.
"Selfish to the core. Beyond redemption."
"Your existence was nothing but harm. You deserved to die."
Ryosuke sheathed his blade and answered quietly.
He agreed completely.
No matter one's past—
The moment someone chose to devour others to satisfy their own desires, only destruction remained.
With Waomenbō's death, the clay figures at the bottom of the pit began to crack and peel away, revealing the unconscious villagers within.
They were extremely weak, their life signs faint—but they were alive.
No longer were their lives being drained by that vile Blood Demon Art.
Ryosuke and Uzui Tengen watched silently, making no move to approach.
The aftermath would be handled by the Kakushi.
Two blood-soaked swordsmen still reeking of killing intent would only cause panic.
In tacit agreement, they turned and left the battlefield, dragging their wounded, exhausted bodies away.
After walking some distance, Ryosuke recalled Uzui Tengen's strike that had shattered Waomenbō's "turtle shell" and spoke up.
"Hey, Tengen. That hit of yours was brutal. And for a moment… your Breathing completely changed."
Uzui Tengen stroked his chin, clearly reliving that sensation.
"Yeah! You noticed too?"
"It felt like something clicked. The flow of breath and power became smoother than ever—like it was always meant to roar that way!"
"Yes! Roar—that's it!"
The more he spoke, the more excited he became. He grabbed Ryosuke's arm and dragged him straight toward a secluded patch of forest.
"Come on, Ryosuke! Help me find that feeling again! That's definitely the doorway to an even more flamboyant power!"
Ryosuke's face drained of color.
A familiar, soul-crushing fear resurfaced.
Two grown men diving into the woods together—
Is this really okay?!
"Tengen! Calm down! Calm down!!"
His protests were completely ignored.
This guy was ridiculously strong!
Uzui Tengen simply hoisted Ryosuke over his shoulder and charged deeper into the trees.
Ryosuke lowered his head and sighed.
Family… who understands this pain?
I dodged Shinjurō—
Only to get grabbed by Uzui Tengen instead!
They returned to Momoyama three days later.
Because of the strength and potential he displayed during the mission, Uzui Tengen was formally recommended by Jigoro and fast-tracked into the Demon Slayer Corps.
From that point on, Uzui Tengen threw himself completely into Breathing training.
That fleeting spark he'd felt in battle—
He chased it relentlessly, magnifying it, refining it.
He began adapting his breathing to his own body, guiding it to produce a unique vibration and resonance.
On the training grounds, thunderous sounds unlike Thunder Breathing began to echo again and again.
The system wasn't fully formed yet—
But the outline of Sound Breathing was unmistakably taking shape.
Watching Uzui Tengen swing his twin blades, Jigoro nodded slowly.
"Overwhelmingly fierce. Sound that shakes like thunder."
"This path suits you."
Uzui Tengen didn't reply, continuing his almost possessed training.
Time passed quietly.
Peach blossoms bloomed on Momoyama—then fell—over and over again.
Ryosuke counted it out.
By now, nearly two years had passed since he'd arrived in this world, struggling for survival.
And that little tagalong who used to chatter endlessly behind him—
Her training period was finally nearing its end.
Another year's Final Selection at Mount Fujikasane was approaching.
Holding her fresh, vivid haori, Rika cried out happily,
"Thank you, Grandpa!"
Jigoro said nothing extra—just as he had with Ryosuke and Shota back then—and patted her shoulder.
"Girl. Come back alive."
Rika nodded firmly, then shot a glance toward Ryosuke, who was deep in meditation.
Ryosuke's hair stood on end.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
Rika leaned in, blinking innocently.
"Hehe~ Ryosuke geigei~"
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